Winterfront
by Kajhe
Summary: Enjoying the winter vacation with Tatsuki
1. Chapter 1

"Maybe next time, I'll visit you in the city, instead," said Tatsuki, looking up at the ceiling, with one hand bended behind his head, his other arm stretched out along the length of the futon, serving as a rest for my head. "I've never been to the city – I've been to Fuunari. But I don't think that counts, does it?"

"It's more of a town than a city, I suppose," I replied, turning my head slightly to the side to look at him, by the light of the kerosene lamp, which lay at one corner of the room. He happened to turn his head a little at the same time too, and our eyes connected for a few seconds, before I turned away, to look at the ceiling again. "But the city's nothing special. I don't know what one could do there for fun, that we couldn't do here: I suppose there's the cinema. I can't think of anything else.

In any case, I like Minasato more. The scenery is nice. And there are more things to do."

"Yeah, it's nice. But it can get boring after a while. I'd still like to visit the city. Besides, I've never been to your place, or met any of your friends. It's good to change things up once in a while."

"You know, you kind of sound like Kounosuke."

"Not really," he replied, shifting so that he was lying on his side, his face looking at me. "Kouno wants to move to the city and live there – I just want to visit. I don't think there's a big demand for carpenters in the city, anyways."

"That's true," I said, huddling closer to him, so that I was up against his chest, with the top of my head brushing against his chin. His large body exuded a warmth that warded the cold off nicely. I could smell him, too: a mix of his personal scent along with the shampoo he used for his scales, and something like fragrant wood - perhaps pine or cedar, possiblly a mix of the two.

He in turn unfolded the arm that had been behind his head, and put it around me. We lay like that a while: the combination of the warmth, his pleasant smell, and the lateness of the night all resulted in me dozing off after a few minutes. I would have simply fallen asleep, if not for the fact that after some time, he stood up, rousing me, making me rest my head against the pillows of the futon.

A bit annoyed, I opened one eye, and I saw him walking to one corner of the room, his tail dragging behind him. He then bent down, and fiddled for a few seconds with the kerosene lamp, until the light went out, leaving the room in total darkness. I heard his heavy footsteps and the creaking of the wooden floor as he made his way back to the futon.

"It's cold," I said to him, as he settled himself in the futon. I wasn't lying, either: outside, there was already snow cover. And the Midoriya house was old: it lacked a heating unit. They used portable heaters, and even then, Tatsuki's room didn't have a heater, since he claimed the cold didn't bother him. There were two ways to keep warm: Tatsuki's body heat, and blankets.

"Typical city-dweller," he said with mock annoyance; shortly, I was once again embraced by his thick, burly arms, and settled atop his warm breast. It was much more comfortable like that.

"Better?" he asked, his breath rustling the hairs on the top of my head.

"Yeah."

"Alright. Good night."

"'Night, Tatsu-nii."

After that, there was silence, save for the sound of Tatsuki's breathing. It wasn't very long after that the same drowsiness I'd been feeling earlier overtook me, making me drift off into sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up before he did. There wasn't any kind of clock in the room, so I found myself unable tell what time it was. I could see the sky outside, from the window in the room: it was cloudy, with a faint and light orange tinge to the wisps of the clouds. That's all I could tell. I guessed the time might have been around eight to eight thirty in the morning, but I couldn't be sure.

It was cold. Personally, I was warm, for the most part: I was still on top of Tatsuki, his arms around me, and I had a blanket over me. But I could feel the cold on my face. It made me want to stay in the warm comfort of the futon for as long as possible. I could hear sounds coming from the other parts of the house: talking, as well as the clattering of pans and dishes and the television. My guess, some of the others of the Midoriya group were up already, having breakfast.

I stayed as I was for some time, regardless. I could feel Tatsuki's chest rising and falling slightly whenever he breathed. I admired his face, from where I was, and I reached with my hand to feel it, feeling the smooth scales and the contours of his face. As I did, he moved a little, and emitted a groan before slightly opening his eyes, only to close them once again.

"Sorry," I whispered, softly. "Did I wake you up?"

There came an annoyed groan from him that I took to be a 'yes'.

_Sorry, _I thought, retracting my hand from his face. He shifted around a little, and in a few moments, he'd dozed off again.

* * *

"So, what do you want to do today?" he asked, lifting the bowl close to his face, using the chop-sticks to shovel the rice-and-vegetable mixture into his mouth. Despite the cold, he was shirtless, wearing nothing but his khaki pants and belt. Granted, on one corner of the living room, opposite to the television - which Nikaidou was watching without much apparent interest - was a small portable heater.

"Hm," I replied, trying to think of something. I remembered that the snow had piled up during the snowfall of the night, and came to the realization that it wouldn't be possible to do many things, or at least as many as we could do in the summer. "To be honest, I can't think of something we could do. You got any ideas?"

"Let me think," he said, and I let him do it, taking the chance to eat the remaining food I had in my bowl. It was already around ten in the morning, and all of the Midoriya group - excluding us - had already eaten. Tappei was out working on the truck, putting chains on the tires in order for the vehicle to be reliable on the ice-prone roads around Minasato, with Chuukichi there to assist him; on the other hand, Yukino was in the kitchen, cleaning and no doubt preparing the next meal of the day.

"Hey, I got a suggestion."

"Yeah?"

"How about we walk to the temple-shrine, and then we can go grab lunch at Raimon's? It's' not far. I know it's not much, but-"

There came a snicker from Nikaidou.

"Shut up," Tatsuki growled, blushing. Then, turning to me again, "It's fine with you, isn't it?"

"Yeah!", I replied, and at that, Tatsuki smiled, the blush on his face intensifying; Nikaidou gave a scoff, barely audible, and returned his dispassionate gaze to the news program.

"Heh. Go get dressed, then, while I finish eating," he told me, still smiling.

Nodding, I stood up, and went to our shared room to change.


	3. Chapter 3

We left the Midoriya place shortly afterwards, at around ten twenty. As expected, it was cold outside: there was a light snow cover, so that with every step we took there came a crunching sound. We walked on the grass when possible, avoiding the dirt roads which crisscrossed the village, which had become muddy and filled with frigid puddles of melted snow and ice.

The sky was overcast, and the breeze was calm. Despite the weather, it was not extremely cold, but, rather, a mild bit chilly. From where we were walking, I could see the rest of Minasato, nestled in a river valley surrounded by tree-covered hills and small mountains, turned white from the recent snowfall, which, I'd been told, had only begun falling two nights ago.

"So," began Tatsuki, who was walking at my left side. He was wearing a letterman jacket, and the same khakis he had been wearing earlier at the table, along with a set of plain-looking hiking boots. "I hope you're enjoying being back. At least, enjoying it as much as I am."

"Of course I am, Tatsuki," I replied, and at that, he reached out his hand to hold mine, which I grabbed, giving it a squeeze.

"Heh. I missed you."

"So did I. Talking by phone just doesn't really compare to being here in person."

"Mhmm," he said, and we continued on our way, passing a few scattered farmhouses here and there, their slanting rooftops white with snow, smoke lazily rising from their chimneys, which filled the air with an aromatic scent that was rustic and reminiscent of the old-growth woods that surrounded the area. "The old man always gave me a hard time whenever we talked on the phone. So, despite the fact that I got to talk to you, it wasn't entirely a pleasant experience."

I chuckled at that.

"Anyways, how's everyone?" I asked him, kicking at a hardened clump of snow which was beginning to turn to ice.

"They're all doing alright. Like I told you, Shin moved away. There was a little get-together to see him off, but it was kind of boring, you know how he was. Didn't even seem like he was sad at the idea of leaving," he added, with the smallest hint of scorn in it, before continuing; "besides him, they're all pretty much the same. To be honest, though, I only see Torahiko and Shun regularly. Sometimes I'll talk to Kouya, if I run into him."

"Yeah, figures."

We walked on, getting closer to the temple-shrine, the mount on which it was situated in visible to us. Judging from the distance, I guessed it would only take us a few more minutes to arrive there, and I could even see the bright red _torii _gate which marked the entrance to the shrine, standing in stark contrast to the dark brown of the leafless trees behind it.

"Why'd you want to go to the shrine, anyways?" I asked.

"I thought you said you were fine with it?" was his reply, and I thought (it could have just been me) I sensed a bit of hurt in the question - "Besides, I wanted to go somewhere private. I just hope it's fine with you."

"It is. Really," I answered, as I gave his hand another squeeze.


	4. Chapter 4

I stood a little way back, a respectful distance, while Tatsuki stood in front of a little grotto, his head bent, eyes closed, and hands clasped in prayer.

The shrine was a small structure, not higher in all than a man's shoulder, and made of wooden boards and roofed with tile. One of the Midoriya - Tappei's grandfather, from what I had heard - had built it long ago, using wood from the local forest, and had hauled the boards up the hill upon his own wheelbarrow. In the proximity of the shrine were a number of statuettes of deified ancestor figures from the town's prominent families, and an artist had been hired in a good year once to paint upon them to make them more life-like. But the rain of generations had poured upon the figures, until now there was only the faded shadow of color left on them.

Within the actual wooden shrine, snugly under the roof, sat four solemn wooden figures, which had also been carved by the elder Midoriya. These were the little gods themselves: beginning at the right, there was the lucky and mirthful god, Yebisu, followed by the kindly-looking Jizou Buddha, with his staff and wish-granting jewel; then there was Kannon, the boddhisattva of mercy and compassion, and lastly, the town's patron _kami_ of agriculture and success, Oinari.

In front of the shrine was a small heap of offerings that previous visitors had left: there were mostly old and wood-rotted sticks of incense, as well as some shriveled flowers and crumpled pieces of paper on which devotees had written their prayer requests for the gods to see and perhaps answer, and which were cleaned away by civic volunteers every New Year's when they had accumulated to such a degree that they took away from the serenity of the place.

Presently, Tatsuki unclasped his hands, opened his eyes, and looked up, giving a little bow before turning around to walk where I was.

"What did you ask for?" I asked him, as he got closer, putting my hands inside the pockets of my pants to ward off the biting cold which numbed them.

"I didn't ask for anything," he answered, coming to stand at my right side. "I was giving thanks. I would have put some incense, but I forgot to bring some along. After all," he added, with a paternal tone, "they have power over the Earth."

"I see," I replied, nodding. There came a moment of silence, and I reflected on the thought that he had gone to the shrine to thank for my arriving and being with him for yet another extended period, and it made sense, seeing as he came from a family of temple-builders. The whole thing made me feel embarrassed, but in such a way that it was pleasant and somewhat exhilarating.

"What are you smiling for?"

"Nothing, just something I remembered," I lied, unable to rid my face of the smile.

"You're making fun of me, aren't you?"

"No..."

He looked bashful, and somewhat hurt, and he shifted his feet.

"You don't believe, or what?"

"Believe in what?"

"You know. The gods, and all that," he said, with a subtle - perhaps unconscious - nod of the head towards the shrine.

"Oh. I suppose I do. I've been to the temples, a couple of times. Last I went, it was to ask for a passing score on the university admission exams. I did fairly well, so I suppose they were listening. Besides, I wasn't laughing at you."

"You were-"

"Not at you."

"Then what?"

"We've been together for some time now," I began, feeling somewhat embarrassed, looking down at the ground, before raising my head to look at him in the eye, "and yet, you always do something to make me feel like when we first got together. You know, like when you have butterflies in your stomach, or you have your first kiss. When we came to the shrine, and I realized you came to give thanks for my being here... Well, I suppose it made me feel special. It feels really good, having somebody who likes your company that much. I wasn't laughing - I just couldn't keep from smiling."

He looked at me, seriously at first, and I could see his eyes clearly. Slowly, he smiled, and as he did, he put one burly arm around me, pulling me closer to him.

"Of course I do," he said, quietly, and it sounded more like he was saying it to himself than to me. "Of course I do. You think we could have been together for two years now, unless I liked your company just that much?"

I didn't answer. I just let my head recline against his chest, as he squeezed my shoulder. We stood like that for a whole, his face fixed on the shrine, though his eyes seemed to be staring at something beyond, as though he were in deep thought. Then I felt a tug, as he motioned me towards the stairs from which we had ascended up to the shrine, and I followed.


	5. Chapter 5

"So, do your parents know about us?" he asked me.

I looked up at him. It was night, and the two of us were in his room, eagerly grasping at any opportunity to have some privacy. We had been there for some time, sitting on his futon and talking; he, with his bottle and flask of pungent sake, and I, with a light blanket wrapped around my shoulders, cross-legged. We had spent a considerable part of the time kissing, and had afterwards begun to converse pleasantly, as we usually did.

Except, his question marked a somewhat uncomfortable turn in the conversation. It had come out of nowhere, too.

"No."

"Oh," he said, without much emotion put into the words.

"I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"You're mad, aren't you?" I asked, a mixture of shame and fear rising in me. _And we had been having such a nice time, too..._

"No..." he replied, staring at me while pouring himself a bit of sake into the small ceramic flask, which he raised to his mouth and downed. "I was just asking, I wasn't going to force you to tell them or anything..."

"Why'd you ask, then?"

"Like I said, I was just curious," and as he said it, he shuffled a bit closer to me, enough so that his arm would occasionally brush against mine when he moved. "So," he continued, carefully serving himself some more of the strong rice wine, "what do you tell them every time you come down here? It's been two years, now."

"That I'm visiting friends. That I'm visiting my grandparents."

"And they believe that?"

I shrugged. "I suppose so," I said. "They never really ask me about how my trip went, beyond asking how my grandparents were."

He simply nodded, and took another drink, before lowering the cup again, looking at the surface of the liquid for some time, pensive.

"I'm just a friend?" he teased suddenly, and he brought his face close to mine, so that I could feel his breath on me (and smell the hints of the alcohol he'd been drinking).

"The sake's beginning to affect you, isn't it?" I answered, bringing my face closer to his as well, so that my lips brushed his: he opened his mouth slightly, and I gently pushed with my tongue, before coming apart again.

"Mhmmm," Tatsuki moaned, putting his large hands on my shoulders; he lunged for another kiss, this time more aggressive. His tongue - larger than mine - found its way inside my mouth, where it brushed against my own tongue to create a tickling, tingling feeling. I closed my eyes, letting the pleasant sensations overtake me, when I felt his hands touching the sides of my face.

"Tatsu-" I uttered, as he pulled his mouth away, leaving me with his aftertaste. His hands remained on my cheeks, and he looked at me.

"Just a friend?" he asked demurely.

"You know you're more than that," I replied quietly, intensely. He gave a little satisfied moan at that, his muzzle nuzzling against my face. We stayed like that for some time, until he leaned backwards and lay down. I followed, getting on top of him, noticing the bottle of sake had been emptied, and that a few drops of the liquid had formed a very small spot on the blankets.

I lay my head on his breast, and he raised one hand, which he put around me in an embrace. I found myself being lulled by the rhythmic beating his heart, as well as by the gentle rising and falling of his breast. I closed my eyes, dozing off, but not completely asleep.

He began to lightly trace circles on my back with his fingers; we were quiet, the two of us, remaining as such for some time.

From outside his tidied room, we could hear the rest of the Midoriya household: there would come the sound of footsteps passing by every so often, as well as indistinct talking and, occasionally, loud bursts of laughter from downstairs.

"I'm sleepy," he said suddenly, looking straight up at the ceiling.

"That's because you're drunk."

"I'm not..."

"You drunk that whole bottle," was my reply, motioning slightly with my head to where the empty green glass bottle of sake lay.

"I'm not drunk - I'm a dragon, and-"

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard that one before: _'It doesn't affect us like it affects you humans.' _Every beastman says that."

"I'm really not drunk," he said with some exasperation, before sighing, as if to indicate that he wasn't done speaking yet. But he didn't speak again, and I could sense him become a bit distant. Even as I held him, I felt him become stiff, as opposed to the relaxed state in which he had been. For the first time in the night, I had sensed something like annoyance in his voice.

"Tatsuki..." I offered, and I was ashamed, because I realized I'd made him angry this time.

"What?"

"I was just joking."

"I know. It's just that... well, the fact that you think I'm drunk right now made me mad, to be completely honest."

There was a strict, firm, and even angry tone to his voice - which I had mainly heard him use against his father and Nikaidou -, and I could tell he was riled up. His embrace around me had grown somewhat weak and flaccid, as he continued: "Do you realize that, sometimes, I drink to not have to feel lonely because you're gone? Because most of the time, I do it because of that, alright? It's not easy having to deal with the old man or the rest of them, especially when I know I can't see you once I'm done with the day. Hell, sometimes, I can't even call you and tell you everything I want to say, because this is the country, and we still only have a house phone, and there's no privacy. They-they'd laugh, and think I'm pathetic, if they found out how it got to me.

Always nagging me, telling me I'm doing it wrong, saying I'm useless, telling me to start over. I know it's the way he teaches and all and I know he's good teacher and an even greater carpenter, but you're wrong if you think it doesn't get to me. I don't show it, because a true man shouldn't let it show. But I-I just want to go to my room and be able to see you and talk to you and hold you, but I can't, because you're gone, far away in the city, and I'm here. So I drink. I get drunk.

And it pisses me off that you think I would get drunk when you come visit. First of all, I don't need to, not once you're here. S-Second... well, I wouldn't want to miss even a second of when you're here. I want to be sober, fully aware, so I can enjoy every moment you're here, to the fullest. Because you make me happy. I may drink when you're here - but I don't get drunk. I wouldn't."

As he finished, his embrace around me once again tightened, and he pulled me, as I remained silent, keeping my eyes downcast. For a second, resentment flashed across my mind, resenting that he had taken a little joking statement on my part so seriously. But it came and went, and I let it sink back into nothingness.

_"_I shouldn't have said that little joke," I replied, quietly. I buried my face in his chest, pressing myself as tightly as I could against him.

"It's no matter. I over-reacted, too. Maybe I am a bit drunk, after all."

"No. I can see why it made you mad."

He grunted, and I could tell he wanted to end the conversation. I didn't say anything, not wanting to make the general mood worse. He continued to hold me, and soon, I found myself feeling more and more at ease, realizing that he was no longer angry, and perhaps even felt some shame for his outburst, as well. Suddenly, I felt him pull me in in such a manner that - once more - our faces were close to each other.

"Did I spoil the night?" he asked, with a sad expression in his eyes, and it seemed to me he could have cried.

"No," I whispered, while shaking my head. Instead of speaking any further, I put my hand to the side of his muzzle, and kissed him gently in his mouth.


End file.
